Spells and Secrecy
by Drag0nst0rm
Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged that a lord of Camelot who wishes to conceal his family's connections to magic cannot afford to risk seeking a wife. (Merlin BBC fusion)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't own either of these franchises. If you're not familiar with Merlin (BBC) then all you really need to know is that in its version of Camelot, magic is highly illegal.**

* * *

If there had been any way of getting out of the coronation, he wouldn't have come. Unfortunately, Lord Fitzwilliam of Darcy could hardly be absent. His lands sharing a border with Lot's kingdom was usually excuse enough to get out of court events since defending the border took priority, but King Arthur's coronation was a different matter. He had to be there.

Poor sickly Georgiana, he told all at court who asked, could not risk the trip.

"What a shame," Lady Caroline said. "She'll miss the coronation ball. Still, with your connections, I'm sure you can arrange something even if she never comes to court."

Darcy had no intention of arranging any suitors for Georgiana. It was fart too risky. Far better to simply support her at home.

But he could hardly say so, so he smiled politely and turned away.

As he did, his eye was caught by a laughing young woman talking to one of the men of Darcy's own party.

Lady Caroline sniffed. "Don't tell me Lady Elizabeth's caught your eye."

"Lady Elizabeth?" he said numbly.

"Second daughter of Sir William of Bennet," she said, curling her lip. "Sadly, Sir William was never blessed with sons, and of course the daughters can hardly inherit, so they're desperate to get them married off. With five daughters, though, I can't imagine their dowries are very tempting."

Darcy barely heard her. Lady Elizabeth was hardly his concern. He was far more worried about her conversation partner.

"I don't suppose you could introduce me?" he asked abruptly.

A private conversation with a knight's daughter wasn't a likely way for Wickham to break his silence, but with the mocking glint in his eyes, Darcy didn't dare to take the risk.

* * *

The de Bourgh line had been notable for many things.

Lady Catherine, for instance, had been quite formidable with fire.

Her daughter had been too young to be notable for anything, but Lady Catherine's dying curse had spurred a blaze that didn't discriminate between knight and child.

Lady Anne died in childbirth before the Purge had reached those of her rank.

Healing spells did, after all, work poorly on one's self.

Georgiana was born small and frail and sickly.

Or so the now late Lord Darcy had said.

Georgiana was born into a world of fear, and fear is not conducive to control.

It was a careful house of cards, and it would only take a careless breath to blow it all apart.

* * *

Darcy was being forced to stay far longer than he would normally have liked by a string of invitations to royal councils that he could hardly refuse.

In hindsight, he should have simply remained quiet at the first one. Instead, he had spoken and been pegged as useful, a title that at the moment he would happily forgo.

The only bright spot was Lady Elizabeth. He had originally pursued the acquaintance so he could insert himself between her and Wickham's insinuations, but her sharp wit and bright eyes had made her intriguing company in her own right. He could only rarely sit with her to eat, but he sought her out whenever the dancing started.

"That shall teach me to listen to rumors," she said with a laugh after one set. "They said you detested dancing, yet I do believe you have asked me every night this week."

Darcy inclined his head and took his leave, taking the implied rebuke to heart. When combined with his previous standoffish ways, his preference for Lady Elizabeth was too noticeable. It would raise expectations.

Expectations, he reminded himself grimly as Wickham pressed a note into his hand, that he could not risk acting to fulfill.

* * *

Wickham's father had been a good and capable steward. Wickham himself was a wastrel, and Darcy was fully prepared to turn him out.

Until Wickham, carelessly lounging in his chair even as Darcy told him so, had said, "I suppose I shall have to seek work in the capital then."

"I wish you luck with it," Darcy had said coolly, but Wickham -

Wickham had smiled. "Oh, I am sure our good king will reward me for news of your sister."

Wickham knew.

After that, Darcy had not dared.

* * *

The note asked him to meet Wickham on the wall at the half hour mark. Darcy did not appreciate being summoned, but he liked the thought of what Wickham might do if defied even less.

It could not go on like this, but all paths that led out loomed equally dark.

Darcy made his way out to the spot Wickham had indicated. Curfew had not yet been struck. Even if the guards saw them, there would be no trouble. Not unless they were overheard.

Wickham was waiting for him, leaning against the battlement with an easy smile. "Hello, my lord."

"Wickham."

If his curt tone bothered Wickham, he didn't show it. "I've been thinking. We can't go on like this forever. You need some guarantee I'll keep my silence, and I need something to compensate me for my trouble. Surely an accord can be reached."

"How much?" Darcy asked flatly.

Wickham shook his head. "Money? What good is money? Here and then spent, and your guarantee is gone."

Darcy's jaw clenched. "What, then?"

"Let me marry Georgiana."

Darcy's hand fell automatically to his sword. "Never."

WIckham's hand moved defensively to his own, but he kept his voice friendly. "Why not? You can hardly marry her off to anyone else, and it would guarantee my silence. To denounce her then would be to sink my own prospects."

"No," Darcy snarled.

Wickham's eyes hardened. "Then I shall go denounce her to the court."

Without quite planning it, Darcy drew his sword.

Wickham's was out in another instant. "A duel, Darcy? Is that your plan? Even if you could emerge the victor, you don't have time. The witness I arranged for is nearly here, and I don't think you will duel _her."_

He thought he heard footsteps on the stair. It was hard to tell over the roaring in his ears.

No time. No way out. No way to save Georgiana.

None save -

He shoved out a hand and spat, _"Astrice."_

Wickham went flying off the wall. Far below, there was a thud.

A sharp gasp came from behind him. He turned to see Lady Elizabeth watching with wide eyes.

"Lydia?" she asked in a voice that was surprisingly strong.

"She was never here," Darcy told her. The reality of what he had done was slowly sinking in. Wickham was hardly the first man he had killed, but this was no battle in defense of Camelot. This was murder. "Whatever you were told, Wickham just wanted a witness to this."

"A witness to what, exactly?" Her eyes were wary.

Darcy sheathed his sword. He wasn't sure how much she had overheard or been told, so to protect Georgiana, he mixed a small lie in with the truth. "He had witnessed magic on my lands and thought to blackmail me by accusing my sister. Unfortunately for him, he guessed the wrong sibling." He looked at her wearily. "If you wish to report it, go. I will not stop you."

"I doubt you could," she said sharply. "I also doubt that your sister completely lacks your talent." A small golden flame licked up her fingers and reflected against her suddenly golden eyes. "In my family's experience, power is usually shared."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: A Christmas gift for my beta, MegMarch1880.**

* * *

A poor knight having five daughters and no sons was a misfortune.

Having five daughters with magic in Uther's Camelot was a disaster.

* * *

Sir William of Bennet had a small magical talent, but he greatly preferred the theory to the practice. He had a library full of books on the subject before the Purge.

After the Purge, he had a slightly smaller library full of books on the subject. "The advantage of buying books in languages most knights never bother to learn," he told Elizabeth dryly when she was old enough to understand. "If you tell them the book's on medicine, they can't prove you wrong."

If they had known Sir William was a practitioner, they likely wouldn't have believed him - likely wouldn't have let him live at all. But his was a very small gift, and almost no one knew.

* * *

His wife had what everyone had assumed was an equally small talent.

This was assumed right up until Elizabeth tried out one of her father's fire spells on a candle and the candle exploded in a ball of flame.

Once might have been an anomaly, but when all of her sisters displayed flashes of the same talent, it could only be assumed that the lady of Bennet had a quite considerable gift withered by lack of application.

This did not improve Sir William's opinion of her.

* * *

Of the five daughters, Elizabeth and Lydia had the greatest measure of the gift. In the days before the Purge, they might have been sent to the High Priestesses for training.

As it was, they were trained at home with secrecy drilled into them since birth. That Lydia and Kitty's carelessness and their mother's nerves had not gotten them caught was, in Elizabeth's opinion, a minor miracle.

Once their skills might have been an asset on the marriage market; now they were merely a threat. Beautiful Jane with her flawless control could marry very well, Elizabeth was sure of it, but the rest of them . . .

* * *

She caught her mother in her father's library once, fluttering around in search of a recipe for a love potion.

"Papa doesn't keep those," Elizabeth said firmly.

She hoped she was right.

* * *

Their cousin, Lord Collins, was a magistrate known for his zealous desire to burn witchcraft out of the land.

Their lady mother took quite ill the entire time he was there, and Kitty looked like she would have liked to declare herself ill as well. Lydia teased him despite all of Jane and Elizabeth's efforts to get her to stop, and it was only luck that the hints flew right over his head.

After she caught him in her father's library nodding approvingly at "such a wide selection of such excellently bound books," Elizabeth's own anxieties flew out the window to be replaced with a certain amused exasperation at being related to such an oblivious man.

No one was much surprised when she turned him down, except of course for Lord Collins himself.

* * *

Mary, like their father, preferred the theory of things. Specifically, she liked the kinds of obscure and complicated theories that came in their father's most dust bound books, written in archaic Latin and attempting to explain how a simple levitation spell worked.

Elizabeth preferred to just learn the levitation spell and then use it on Mary's chair so she could see how long it took her sister to notice.

After she achieved a half hour with no sign of Mary noticing, she decided the experiment was a success and turned her mind to the next spell in the book.

* * *

Their mother spoke longingly of court, but for Elizabeth at least, the experience was quite different.

She held Jane's hand tightly at every execution.

It was fortunate that Jane's pallor was viewed as ladylike sensitivity and not the terror it was.

* * *

Lord Darcy was rich and powerful, according to her mother. He was handsome, according to Lydia, though not as handsome as his man Wickham.

Elizabeth doubted neither assertion, but she thought they were both rather missing the point.

Lord Darcy had secrets. She was certain of that after living so long with her own.

* * *

He was the first person she had ever revealed her magic to, not counting her parents. Even knowing he had his own, it was terrifying.

But then he copied the flame in her hand, and she saw the same joy in the magic in his eyes that she felt in her own.

It wasn't frightening at all after that.

* * *

Two weeks later, shortly before he was to depart back to his own lands, he approached her on the wall once more. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back, and his shoulders were tight.

"Why, Lord Darcy, if I hadn't heard so many tales of your courage on the border, I'd think you were nervous," she teased.

He ignored this. "I have long struggled with how to provide my lands with an heir," he said, gazing at a point somewhere over her left shoulder. "For obvious reasons, I was hesitant to bring just anyone into my house."

"Naturally," she agreed.

He nodded. "Despite the relative inferiority of your connections, your understanding of the . . . other matter . . . makes you an eminently suitable choice. Lady Elizabeth, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Elizabeth gaped at him, two spots of color high on her cheeks.

It had occurred to her that a proposal might come. She had even intended to accept it if one did.

She had not expected a proposal that was quite so . . . cold.

She took a deep breath and looked out over the wall. She could not afford to dismiss him out of hand, and yet -

"I have four sisters, my lord," she said coolly. "All would suit your purposes as well as myself."

Darcy shifted awkwardly. "They would not."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Whyever not?"

He swallowed. "They are not - You are - " He took a deep breath. "Forgive me. Lady Elizabeth, you are possessed of an uncommon wit, skill, and beauty. Now that I am assured that the other matter will not come between us, there is no one I would rather have at my side."

Warmth bloomed in her chest. She smiled brilliantly. "In that case, Lord Darcy, I accept."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A short epilogue as a birthday gift for my beta.**

* * *

"There's a message from the king, my lord." Darcy's manservant was too composed a man to look overly concerned, but a hint of apology touched his face. "The man who brought it said it was urgent."

Urgency could mean many things for a border lord, up to and including notification that their nearest neighbors had declared war; the man had been quite right to interrupt breakfast. "Thank you, Wilkins," he said, accepting the missive. "You may go."

The family dined alone at breakfast, without even any servants in immediate attendance. It was a chance to relax, if ever so slightly, and speak of things they otherwise dared not. But as much as he treasured the opportunity, this couldn't wait.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked when his silence grew too long. "Nothing too terrible, surely?"

He looked up from the parchment to see that Georgiana had grown nervous and pale. He tried to smile reassuringly, but he was not at all sure it had worked. At the moment, he felt too stunned to say much of anything.

"The king has lifted the ban on magic."

Georgiana's spoon fell with a clatter.

"The king has what?" Elizabeth said.

"The king has legalized magic used for benevolent or neutral purposes," Darcy repeated.

"Surely it must be some sort of trick."

"It bears his seal," Darcy countered. His eyes widened fractionally. "And he has appointed a court sorcerer."

"Do you suppose the new sorcerer's enchanted the king, then?"

"I don't know," Darcy said helplessly. "I suppose the only thing for it is to return to the citadel and find out."

Georgiana's eyes widened. "You'll be careful, won't you, brother? I mean, of course you're always careful, but - "

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Very careful," he said.

"If it is true, 'tis a pity you did not wait another year to wed," Elizabeth said with an impish smile. "You could have had a wife with connections after all."

"And you could have had a husband who did not mention such things in his proposal," Darcy said dryly. "I, for one, am happy with how events turned out."

Her smile widened. "I am glad to hear you say so. Especially since I have some news too, though I am afraid it has been rather eclipsed by the king's."

"Oh?" he asked.

"Yes," she said with an even wider smiles. "I'm pregnant."

This time it was Darcy's turn to let his spoon fall.


End file.
